


The Concept Of Grief

by jackstanifold



Series: Missing A Dying Star (Sadinnit Oneshots) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I'm Incredibly Sad, Sad, brutally with no cameos afterward, no beta we die like Mexican dream, no happy ending here btw, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackstanifold/pseuds/jackstanifold
Summary: Tommy missed the concept of Wilbur Soot.
Relationships: Grayson | Purpled & Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Missing A Dying Star (Sadinnit Oneshots) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205120
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	The Concept Of Grief

**Author's Note:**

> 'toby,' the people cry, 'you have three ongoing fics that need your attention!'
> 
> but i don't hear them, im too busy writing more.
> 
> there might be another chapter to this, someday, but right now, i'm mourning, so i only write angst and also whatever the fuck that one skephalo fic was.

Tommy’s grief didn't come in stages.

It wasn’t like what he expected.

In all the stories, the person grieving went all out sad mode, collapsing on the ground in tears as soon as they heard, and then not smiling or laughing for days.

For Tommy, Wilbur’s death was more of a footnote. He hadn’t seen his brother in ages, and had suspected he’d pull something like this, so he wasn’t really surprised to hear he’d committed suicide. That sounded harsh…

He’d heard of the different stages of grief, sure.

Denial, guilt, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. 

He never really got any of them. One day, his big brother was dead, and gone.

Then Ghostbur arrived, and he wasn’t Wilbur, not really, but he was close. They got close, during Lads on Tour, and after, at Techno’s house. 

Things were fine. Things were okay.

And then when they beat Dream, things were supposed to be even better. Tommy was supposed to be better. Heal from his trauma and shit.

Then Ghostbur left, moved on to the afterlife, to heaven, or hell, or wherever he was headed, and that’s when it hit.

Tommy hadn’t expected it.

He, Purpled, Tubbo and Ranboo were sitting on the floor of Tommy’s new room in Sam’s base, listening to Mellohi, when Ranboo casually asked if Tommy was ok.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, your brother just kind of died again.”

And he broke down.

He didn’t miss Wilbur, he realized. He couldn’t really find it in himself to miss the bastard, who had yelled at him, and hit him, and left him feeling like shit.

He didn’t even really miss Ghostbur, who had ignored all his problems in favor of chasing sheep around, and throwing blue at people.

No, he didn’t miss his brother, but he missed what could’ve been.

He missed the holes that Wilbur filled.

The day of the invasion, when he’d called Wilbur “Wilby”, and he’d started laughing, teasing him for it, ruffling his hair.

The day he’d decided to make a cake for Phil, and Wilbur had helped with the icing, singing the whole time, dancing around the kitchen, trying to get Techno to join in.

The day he’d first called Wilbur his brother, and he’d teared up, jokingly saying “Don’t say that, I will cry,” and punching his arm, lightly, before fleeing to his room, to cry.

The day Wilbur’s date rejected him, and he’d come into Tommy’s room to sit on his bed and eat all the chocolates he’d bought her and pout.

The day Wilbur tried to teach Tommy to play guitar, before giving up and plopping him down on a piano stool, telling him to wait while he got Fundy to teach him.

He didn’t miss Wilbur, he’d been a terrible president, a terrible brother, a terrible friend. But he’d filled holes in Tommy’s heart he hadn’t even realised existed. The stupid way his voice curled, like he was always making a speech, the dumb way he flipped his head to get his hair out of his eyes, the way he punched things when he laughed, the way his face got red when he was amused, the way he refused to wear short sleeves, but always rolled his sweaters up to his elbows anyway.

He didn’t miss the Wilbur who had told him and Techno to fight, the man who pushed the button, who screamed at Phil, his own father-  _ their own father-  _ to kill him.

Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to miss him.

But he missed what he could’ve been, what he might’ve been once.

What he’d never be again.

Tommy missed the concept of Wilbur Soot, and that was so much worse than missing the person.

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically a vent fic, don't @ me,
> 
> the name of this in google docs was wilbyshit sadchamp
> 
> please comment <3


End file.
